It has been a very long time since I felt a new heart wound. That’s not to say I have not felt new sadness. The end of my first relationship in sixteen years hurt, but I did not let it traumatize me or make me give up on life. Rather it was that breakup that taught me how to properly differentiate between unimaginable grief pain and well, imaginable regular universe pain.

The first one hurts so bad you want to rip open your chest and tear your heart out. It also usually leaves permanent scars. The second one also hurts, but it is more emotional than physical. And while it might initially leave a little scar, it does not seem to carry the same chronic lifelong chronic pain.

While the above mightn’t seem like such a big deal, for years I struggled with my mind constantly turning every regular universe pain, hurdle or roadblock into a kind of life-will-always-suck-because-Kalei-died perspective. It has only been in the last few years that I have managed to differentiate properly between unimaginable grief pain and imaginable regular universe pain and in doing so keep them separate and begin living again.

A few weeks ago I was given a new test. Unlike the breakup of my relationship in 16+ years (which I saw coming) or my job loss (saw that one also), I didn’t see this particular blow coming.

Living as long as I have its normal to accumulate a tidy sum of friends and acquaintances from many parts of the country. Acquaintances usually come and go depending on whatever is happening in your life. Where you live, work, community, social situation and so on. We often attach to someone for a while but once whatever facilitated that connection in the first place disappears, we often drift away and lose touch with that person. Sometimes an acquaintance does turn into a friendship that stands the test of time regardless of distance or circumstance. It might not be in the best-friend category but it is still a valued relationship.

I have known Eve (not her real name oh curious ones) for thirty plus years. We met when I lived in another city. As we were both single moms, struggling to support our children on our own, it seemed natural to come together. For several years we spent a lot of our spare time together. Our kids became the best of friends. When Kalei and I eventually moved away, Eve and I rarely saw each other but none-the-less did our best to stay in touch.

After Kalei’s death she was very supportive. For the first couple of years she was okay with me talking about my child’s death whenever I needed to. She was also open to my discussions about Kalei’s new presence in my life as an angel. I was very grateful for the listening and other acts of kindness she sent my way as I struggled with death and then life. Because I looked on her as a friend, I thought that kind of support would never change. I thought she ‘got’ me and my grief. I was wrong.

After I published Forever Kalei’s Mom I made a list of people I wanted to send an autographed copy to. Eve was on that list.

She did not really acknowledge the book or say much about it. When I asked her, “What did you think of FKM?” she sort of brushed the question aside. I did not press her for more as I assumed, since she actually knew Kalei, the subject was too difficult for her to talk about. I held onto to that assumption until a month ago when she came to Calgary on business. After not seeing her for some fifteen years, we decided to catch up over dinner.

After a lovely evening out, we continued to talk about this and that on the drive back to her hotel. Then, out of nowhere she said, “Lorene, I have to tell you something. After I read your book I threw it in the garbage.” As if that was not enough she added, “It was just too painful and sad to have in my house so I threw it out.”

With each passing word, my heart filled with wave after wave of pain. My lungs stopped cooperating and I couldn’t breathe. I was quite simply, in shock. My mind struggled with actually comprehending her words. You threw my book out? You threw my book out?You threw my book out? You threw my book out? I kept repeating this sentence but with an emphasis on different words thinking it might be more understandable to me. Eventually anger replaced shock and my thoughts shifted accordingly.

Too painful? I thought. What the heck do you know about pain??? My child gave up her life for that book to be written! I gave my life up to write it! My heart, soul and everything in me is in that book. Damn you! I had to reach into the darkest recesses of my broken mind, heart and soul in order to write that book. Do you think I wanted to write it? Damn you! I HAD to write it. Not for me you idiot! It was for people like you who need to know the truth about grief so you can help rather than hurt those who are suffering! And what do you do? You throw my gift in the garbage on top of the scraps from your last dinner! How could you do something so mean? And worse, why would you feel the need to tell me about it?

At that moment I wanted to do was stop the car and scream, “Get out of my car! NOW!”

What did I do? Nothing, I kept driving.

What I say? In a surprising calm and gentle voice I said, “I wish you had not told me that.”

After dropping Eve off, I cried all the way home. Over and over I kept asking myself, “How could she throw Kalei’s book in the garbage? How could she actually do that?” And then, “Oh my God! How could she think it was a good thing to tell me what she did?” By the time I drove into my garage, I was still trying to make something sensible out of the senseless…I couldn’t.

Over the next week I wrestled with the relationship consequences not only Eve’s actions. But more important, I still needed to understand why she felt the need to hurt me. As far as I know I have never done anything mean or untoward to her. Even our evening together had been a lot of fun. As always, when I am struggling with something in my life, I start writing. This time, because I had no idea where I would end up, I documented my mental churn in my private journal rather than the more public blog.

At first, the more I wrote, the angrier I got. Eventually, I wrote these words:

We humans have the ability to be kind but we seem to excel at cruelty. Friend or foe the ability to inflict pain is in all of us. I don’t know why Eve chose the path she did. I am starting to think I will never know. If that is the case, then this was another lesson. Okay God, what am I supposed to learn and really, can’t you at least try to make my lessons just a little bit easier

It took a few more days and a lot of soul searching but eventually I came to this conclusion. I have two choices. Take the low road by calling Eve and verbally blasting her until she hurts as much as I did and then immediately cut her out of my life or take the high road. Know that her words cannot really hurt me if I don’t let them, focus on forgiveness and allow Eve to remain in my life. Arrrgh! Why is the high road always the harder one to travel?

For weeks I substituted forgiving thoughts for angry ones whenever I thought of her words. It wasn’t easy and to be honest, I’m not sure if I was actually on the high road…probably more like the shoulder with the occasional slip into the ditch but I didn’t give up. Then Easter Sunday arrived.

After waking up I headed downstairs to make coffee. With cup in hand I settled in to write in my journal. I didn’t get too far before I began to feel a kind of burning pain in the center of my palms. I know exactly what that means so with a smile on my face I said, “Okay God, I know you are there. What is it you are trying to tell me?” And because I like to talk to Him like we know each other I added, “And, oh yeah, you can stop with that annoying palm thing. I am listening now!”

The next thing I know these words are flying across the page:

Today is the day of Christ’s resurrection. Today marks the triumph of good over evil, sin and death. Today I forgive Eve.

Almost immediately the anger left my body and the heaviness in my heart disappeared. “Ahhh,” I said to myself, “there’s that peaceful feeling again!”

The lessons, well, they just seem to keep on coming. I can’t continue to hold onto grief pain like it is a familiar blanket nor do I want to hold onto regular universe pain just because it shares some of that familiarity. This change is going to take a bit more work before I get it right. Gee, I can hardly wait!

As for forgiveness, if I could forgive God for Kalei’s death I am pretty sure I can forgive just about anyone else. In the end, when you think about good and evil, it really isn’t a difficult choice to make.

One Response to Easter Sunday seemed like a good day to tell a story about forgiveness.

I am so sorry you had to go through this Lorene. Sounds to me like she was “breaking up” with you and she had thought of the most hurtful, insensitive thing to say to you in order to accomplish that. I can’t imagine not having your book in this world as it is essential, therapeutic reading for all of us. I can’t imagine ever throwing ANY book into the garbage. But throwing out your glorious work of art is absolutely insane. Adolph Hitler comes to mind. Perhaps they are related. So glad you are writing Lorene. You were born to do this. Your writing is your gift to this world. Please don’t ever forget that. xo Danny